


Bleach: The Manga Novelization

by ESP_Witch



Category: Bleach
Genre: Canon - Manga, Novelization
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-19 10:12:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13702368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ESP_Witch/pseuds/ESP_Witch
Summary: A complete novelization of the original Bleach manga, because I thought only using it to better my own writing would be stingy. Frequent updates.





	1. Death and the Strawberry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have realized that in order to create good fic, I need to go to the source material. This novelization is that fic. Written using Japanese scanlations of the original manga. Meant to foster a better understanding of the text, and eventually lead to better fanfic. Here we go.

Bleach

Chapter One: Death and the Strawberry

Because we are amorphous,

We hold that in reverence.

-

Friday

2:23 AM

Karakura Town

A black butterfly fluttered around the girl in the moonlight. She had shoulder length black hair, violet eyes, and she was small, slim, pale, and delicate. She wore black samurai’s robes with a white sash (this uniform’s robe lining was always white - hence “bleach”), and a silvery katana sword.

She was looking at a map.

“It must be around here…” she murmured to herself. “- I see… I feel strong spirit activity…”

She was suddenly revealed to be floating in midair, over the buildings of the small city, the telephone poles and wire, the lamp posts. She leaped away through the air.

Thus the blade is swung down.

-

Friday

7:13 PM

Karakura Town

A skateboarder was lying off to the side, unconscious with a bloody face and his skateboard overturned next to him, on the side of a city street. Four more skateboarders had surrounded a teenage boy in a threatening circle on the main avenue of the street.

The teenage boy was tall and thin, in a high school uniform and carrying a book bag. He had messy orange hair and amber brown eyes. He was frowning stoically, looking more bored and bewildered than anything else, scratching at the side of his head as if in exasperation.

“What the?!” the leader of the skateboarders demanded of the boy. “You suddenly appear and kick over Yama-bro, plus you want us to get out of here?! What are you thinking? You wanna die? Huh?!”

The boy looked around, watching everything carefully despite his casualness

Ichigo/15 years old

Hair color/Orange

Eye color/Brown

Occupation/High school student

Special skill/

“Say something, you…” And the lead skateboarder charged toward Ichigo. Ichigo’s foot slammed into his face, Ichigo still looking stoical and bored, and the skateboarder fell to the ground unconscious.

One of the remaining skateboarders gasped. “Toshi-bro’s down!” another said disbelievingly.

They were getting nervous, even scared.

“D… don’t know what’s going on, but this is dangerous...” one of them swallowed. “I’ve never seen such irrational violence…”

“That guy’s definitely one of those…” said another. “If we fight him, we’ll be killed for sure…”

“Shut up already!” Ichigo shouted, putting a foot on top of Toshi’s unconscious head, suddenly angry and expressive. He pointed behind him. “All you guys look over there!”

Beside a pole, an empty milk jug full of daisies had fallen over, little glass pieces broken off and the water draining around the petals in a puddle.

“Question one! What the heck can that be!” The skateboarders looked dismayed as a furious Ichigo pointed at one. He had done a complete change of moods, now turning furious and sarcastic. “Okay, you over there, the stinky looking one!”

“Huh…? M… me? Stinky looking?” The guy pointed at himself uncertainly. “U… Um… An offering to the kid who died here recently…” he admitted uneasily.

“Great answer!” Ichigo shouted sarcastically, suddenly lashing forward and kicking the guy down and unconscious in a karate move.

“Mit-bro!” another of them screamed, terrified out of his wits. The remaining two hurried over. “Mit-bro! You okay, Mit-bro?!”

“Question two!” And then Ichigo suddenly went serious, deadly quiet, changing again. “Then why is that vase… knocked over?” he asked softly and threateningly.

Tampering with an offering to the dead - especially a dead child - was not only sacrilegious but disrespectful.

The two looked up, worried.

“Th… that’s…” one began.

“That’s cuz we knocked it over… skateboarding…?” the second one finished.

“I see…” said Ichigo thoughtfully.

And then the remaining skateboarders’ eyes widened in horror.

“Then shouldn’t you apologize to her?!” Ichigo demanded, yelling suddenly in a fit of wide-eyed, frightening temper, pointing behind him… and the ghost of a little girl had appeared floating behind him to the two skateboarders. She had a missing eye, and blood running down the side of her pigtailed face and her shirt dress.

Special skill/Ability to see ghosts

The two skateboarders screamed and ran away. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“I’m sorry! I won’t do it anymore! I’m sorryyy!”

They faded away into the distance.

Ichigo sighed, his bored, stoical face falling into place again, the little frown with the curl between his eyebrows. “If we scare them this much they probably won’t come around here anymore,” he commented. “Sorry ‘bout that, using you this way.” He turned conversationally to the floating little dead girl.

“Nah. I’m the one who asked you to chase them away, I have to cooperate at least this much,” said the ghost girl easily.

Ichigo turned away. “Well then, bye,” he said quietly. “I’ll bring new flowers soon.”

The previous offering had been his.

“... Okay. Thanks, mister.” She smiled at his back. “Now I can spend my time quietly.”

“You’re welcome.” He gave a lazy wave as he walked away. “Hurry up and go to heaven.”

Yes, Ichigo told us. I am a guy who can see ghosts. My father is the neighborhood doctor. Saving people’s lives, not saving them. I don’t know if it’s because of that, but, as long as I can remember, I’ve been able to see ghosts.

He walked up to his suburban house, past the clinic sign up in front of the lower story - his father’s practice was a home practice - and through the front door in the evening air.

“I’m home,” he announced stoically, casual.

And his father jump kicked him across the face in a karate move. “You’re - late!”

Ichigo lay there on the floor as his father towered over him, hands on hips. His father had a black beard and was tall and broad-shouldered in a white doctor’s coat.

“What time do you think it is, you delinquent son!” Ichigo’s father demanded. “You know dinner is every night at seven!”

Ichigo stood up and got furiously right back up in his father’s face.

“You! Is that how you greet your son who just returned from performing a serious exorcism?!” Ichigo demanded. Changeful and short tempered again. Past his tough guy stoicality, he was a very changeful person.

“Silence!” his father growled back. “No matter what the reason, to he who disrupts this household’s iron harmony, only a punishment of blood can be rendered!”

They were now hitting and crashing each other around the entryway.

“Or what?” his father demanded. “Are you implicitly bragging that only you can touch ghosts and talk to them?! I’m jealous!”

“Shut up! It’s not like I wanted to be born this way!” Ichigo returned heatedly.

Two elementary school aged girls, Ichigo’s sisters, were sitting at the table eating dinner. One had a pixie cut of brown hair, brown eyes, and soft features; the other had short black hair, black eyes, and sharp features.

“Oh - stop it, both of you,” the brown-haired one scolded, motherly. “The food’s getting cold -”

“Leave ‘em alone, Yuzu,” said the black-haired one flatly. “Another bowl.” She held out her bowl for food.

“First of all, the rules in this house are way too strict!” Ichigo pointed furiously at his father. “In what world is there a parent that sets a curfew for a healthy male high school student at 7 PM…”

“Oh!” Yuzu brightened. “Ichigo, you already have a new person.”

Ichigo whirled around to find the ghost of a middle-aged businessman with glasses floating behind him. Ichigo ducked reflexively. “Aah! This guy! When did he -?! I get rid of them again and again but it’s always like this! Damnit!”

“You can see them, touch them, talk to them, plus you’re a special A level spirit medium. Your troubles are fourfold,” said the black-haired sister casually from the table. “Must be tough having high specs, Ichi.”

“But you know… I’m a little envious of Ichigo,” Yuzu admitted. “I can only see a blur. I wanna see them clearly.”

“Not me - since I don’t believe in ghosts or whatever.” The black-haired sister took a sip from her bowl of food.

“Huh -? But you can see them too, right?” said Yuzu, surprised. “The only one who can’t see is Daddy.”

“Stupid,” said the black-haired sister flatly. “Whether you can see them or not, as long as you don’t believe, it’s the same as them not existing.”

Yuzu and the ghost both clearly found this very cold, and somewhat worthy of disbelief.

“Forget about that,” said the sister. “Hey, I thought of a new project. Listen:

“Would you like to frolic with ghosts in the winds of early summer? Karuizawa Ghost Picnic.” She held up a flyer she had made.

“Last month it was to go look at flowers,” said Yuzu worriedly.

“Karin! Stop trying to make money using me!” Ichigo demanded temperamentally of his dark-haired sister.

“An opening!” Dad suddenly cheered, pouncing on Ichigo from behind and pinning one arm behind his back on the floor. Ichigo just lay there. His father paused, puzzled, as if this wasn’t what he’d been expecting or hoping for at all.

Then Ichigo suddenly tossed his father off of him in a fit of rage.

He stormed up the stairs to his bedroom. “Forget it! I’m sleeping!”

“Ah! Brother!” Yuzu called after him, distraught.

“Oh well, he’s gone. It’s your fault, Daddy,” said Karin matter of factly.

“W… Why!” said their father, looking injured and self conscious. He genuinely didn’t see anything wrong in how he treated his son. In his mind, they were locked in an endless karate match, not in an unhealthy relationship. He didn’t treat his daughters that way, but it seemed to be the only way he knew how to communicate with his son.

“Ichigo’s had a hard time lately!” Yuzu snapped. “He’s in a pinch because ‘more ghosts have been coming around than before’.”

“What! He talks to you two about things like that!” said their father, disbelieving. 

“I’ll take dinner to his room later,” said Yuzu. Yuzu was the cook and laundry person around the family home, as a daughter.

“That kid… He doesn’t tell me any of his troubles…” their Dad grumbled.

“Of course,” said Karin, not even looking at her Dad. “Not even I would talk about my problems to a father over 40 who only has such childish communication skills.”

She was flat, blunt, and to the point.

Their father reacted with shock - and then ran crying to a gigantic, blown-up memorial photo of his wife on one wall. She had long brown wavy curls and was very pretty, smiling beautifully in mid-laugh and surrounded by sakura petals. Above the photograph were the words “Masaki Forever.”

“Mother…” he wailed. “These days it must be adolescence, because our daughters are awfully cold to their father… What should I do…” he asked earnestly.

“First start by taking down that ridiculous poster of Mom,” Karin muttered, still not looking.

-

Up in his room, Ichigo talked to us again: Really. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been able to see ghosts, just like I can see any other ordinary human being.

That’s why… I never even thought about…

Ichigo’s bedroom door closed, the fifteen pendant on its outside jangling. (A play on his name, which meant “one and five” along with “strawberry.”)

“Jeez… why’s everyone in our family like that…” he complained, taking off his book bag. 

Suddenly, a black butterfly fluttered past his head in the bedroom and he paused curiously.

“A black swallowtail butterfly?” he wondered aloud. “What is this? Where’d it come from -”

His eyes widened. The black-haired girl in robes from the beginning had just floated solemnly right through his bedroom wall.

… The existence of something called “Shinigami.”

Shinigami - mythical Japanese spirits that guided souls on to the afterlife.

“... Wha…” Ichigo stared at the girl, stunned. She looked ahead seriously instead of at him.

She landed slowly on the floor from where she’d been floating in the air. “It is near…!” she said darkly and dramatically to herself -

Right before Ichigo kicked her in the back, losing his temper, and sent her flying. “‘It is near…’ my ass, retard!” he snapped.

The girl just lay there on the floor, dazed and confused, as Ichigo pointed at her from above and started ranting.

“You’re a pretty confident burglar, eh?! By ‘it is near’ do you mean that the safe is near or something?!”

“Y… you… can see me…?” The girl looked around, staring wide-eyed at Ichigo. “I mean to say, did you just kick…?”

Just as no one was supposed to be able to touch a ghost, no one was supposed to be able to touch this girl either.

“Huh? What the heck are you talking about? Of course I can see you…” said Ichigo, surprised and still kind of angry.

Suddenly, his Dad kicked through his bedroom and into his back. “Be quiet, Ichigo! Don’t make a ruckus on the 2nd floor!”

Ichigo kneed him in the face in response. “You be quiet! How can I not make a ruckus?!”

“Nice hit,” his Dad muttered as he stumbled backwards.

“Look at this guy!” Ichigo pointed furiously at the Shinigami girl. “What the heck is going on with the security system in this house?!”

“Hmm…” His Dad got out of his fighting stance, puzzled. “What do you mean look… Look at what?” He blinked, nonplussed.

“- Huh?” said Ichigo after a pause, still pointing at the girl, now equally confused. “I’m talking about this samurai-costumed…”

“It is useless,” said the girl calmly. She had stood straight and now looked serious once again. “It is not possible for ordinary men to see me.”

Ichigo turned around and stared at her next words.

“I am - a Shinigami.”

Shinigami - a spirit who guided souls on to the afterlife. Literally translated as “God of Death.”

-

In a splash of blood, the monster threw the pigtailed ghost girl’s spiritual corpse away on the ground.

“Closer…” it growled, “... strong soul… is closer…”

-

Back at Ichigo’s home, downstairs their father had gone wailing to Yuzu. “Ichigo kicked me hard. Daddy’s sad.”

“There, there.” Yuzu patted him, concerned, strangely the more mature one.

“You reap what you sow,” said Karin cryptically from the table, less fazed, but yet again she had a good and somewhat disturbing point - his changeful tempers might have been innate, but a lot of Ichigo’s explosions of temperamental violence towards strangers (and his father) could probably be attributed to how he was raised as a boy in his father’s household.

-

Upstairs, Ichigo was talking to the Shinigami girl in his bedroom.

“... I see. So you’re a Shinigami…”

He was sitting at a little kneeling table set up in the room across from her. His arms were crossed, his face frowning, stoical, and serious once more.

“And you came from a place called Soul Society to exterminate an evil spirit,” Ichigo continued. “Okay! I’ll believe you!”

And then he threw the table away, flipping it across the room.

“Yeah, right, like I’d believe that, retard!” he exploded.

The girl made a sound of surprise and alarm, half-standing. “You… you can see ghosts but you do not believe in the existence of Shinigami!” she said in disbelief. 

“Of course not,” said Ichigo skeptically. “Unfortunately, I’ve never seen a Shinigami. I don’t believe in things I can’t see.”

He pushed her away by the head toward the nearest wall.

“Dad couldn’t see you so I’ll acknowledge the fact that you’re not human,” he admitted. “However, quit the Shinigami crap. Got it, you little brat?”

The girl’s temper had sparked - apparently at being called young and short. “You have spewed nonsense,” she hissed, and whirled around, throwing out two fingers. “First restraint! Obstruction!”

Ichigo’s arms and legs sprang together, paralyzed. He was alarmed and surprised as he fell over flat on the floor.

He began complaining loudly. “You… what’d you do…!” he forced out, perhaps trying to hide fear.

The Shinigami girl snickered and smirked, putting her sandaled foot atop Ichigo’s body. “You cannot move! This is called kido, demon form, and it is an advanced type of incantation spell only Shinigami can use.”

She took out her sword, still smirking. 

“Even though I look like this, I have been alive almost ten times longer than you have. And you dare to call me little brat?”

Shinigami aging rules were ten different kinds of fucked up, in reality. She was implying here that she was ten times Ichigo’s age - he was fifteen, the official Japanese coming of age ceremony period, so she would be a hundred and fifty - but we really don’t know. Her physical age, like most spirits’, was indefinable. In the world of Soul Society, most adult or even preteen or teenage spirits were the age of people who would at least be aging in human terms, if not dead. On top of this, spirits were the same physical age for decades, only to go through sudden spurts of alarming growth. Some even regressed back the other way. Aging seemed to be tied to desires, spiritual growth, emotional change, and point in life. So Ichigo could theoretically meet a spirit physically younger than him and in age old enough to be his grandfather. And next month they could be his physical age. But even meeting someone supposedly both physically and in age older than him was vague and up in the air as to what it actually meant. It was damn hard to figure out how “old” a spirit was.

Soul Society judged people emotionally and spiritually - not in terms of physical age.

The Shinigami forces fraternization laws made just about as much sense, in that they were openly nonexistent. Unlike some manga, who left fraternization laws vague or up in the air, maybe there or maybe not, Shinigami flouted fraternization laws so often that they could not realistically exist. At best it would be a stretch.

“Usually, I would kill fellows like you,” the girl continued, smirking, her sword unsheathed, “but spiritual law states that one cannot kill humans they have not been ordered to kill. I will have to be content with just sealing your movements. Give thanks, you little brat.”

Ichigo’s teeth clenched in helpless fury as she threw his own words right back at him.

“And…” she continued, and lifted her sword. Ichigo’s eyes widened in fear as he became convinced he was somehow about to be executed anyway - 

But this was not at all what happened.

The sheath of the girl’s sword went in the forehead of the ghost of the businessman beside Ichigo. Ichigo watched in alarm and surprise, teeth gritted, as the ghost’s eyes widened in shock.

“N… no… I… don’t want to go to Hell yet…!” the businessman begged, tears filling his eyes.

“Do not fear,” said the Shinigami girl quietly, serious. She did not smile, but did not seem cruel either. “The place you are headed to is not Hell. It is the Soul Society. Unlike Hell, it is a peaceful place.”

She lifted the sword back, revealing the RELEASE character stamped on his forehead in Japanese. The old man dissolved and disappeared in a flood of light. Seconds later, a black swallowtail butterfly in his place fluttered away and out of sight through the ceiling.

“... Wh… what happened to that ghost…?” Ichigo managed uncertainly, unusually hushed.

“I sent him to the Soul Society. It is called Konso, or soul burial,” said the Shinigami. “In your language I believe you call it ‘going to heaven.’ It is one of a Shinigami’s duties.”

It would be useful to mention at this point that the world of Bleach seemed to follow traditional Buddhist ideas of death. Souls died, went to the afterlife or a kind of Heaven, and were reincarnated according to their karmic balance of good and bad deeds. Those with a huge history behind them wandered as ghosts after death. The worst people on earth went to a Hell realm after death.

This Shinigami had just taken a ghost and sent them on to the afterlife or Heaven - in this world, called the Soul Society, a place the Shinigami themselves lived. She had just helped to regulate the flow of spirits in the universe.

“I guess I shouldn’t even ask if you finally believe me or not,” she mused out loud to Ichigo, who had gone silent and wary and obviously did believe her. “I will kindly explain,” she added scathingly, reaching into a robe pocket, “so that even a brat like you can understand. Shut up and listen.

“In this world there are two types of spirits,” she began seriously.

She then proceeded to explain quite solemnly with horrible, childish drawings of cute little bunny characters. She seemed to love bunnies and terrible drawing about as much as she hated being dismissed as tiny and young.

“One type of spirit is called Plus and it is the most common spirit. You can say that the ‘ghosts’ you usually see are these.

“And the other type is called Hollows and these attack living and dead beings alike and eat their souls. These are what you call ‘evil spirits.’

“Do you have any questions so far?” she asked matter of factly, kneeling with her absurd diagrams before his prone, entrapped form.

“Umm. Can I start by asking why your drawings abnormally suck?” Ichigo asked, for once perhaps not actually trying to be offensive.

Then he began protesting loudly as the Shinigami used her marker to draw a long, curling black mustache across his face. She seemed rather pleased with herself.

“Damnit! Just ‘cuz I can’t move,” he growled, dismayed. Ichigo cared about his appearance and tough guy persona more than he wanted people to know.

“I will continue the explanation,” said the Shinigami smoothly, “Your Highness Mr Baron.

“We Shinigami have two duties.

“One is to guide Pluses to Soul Society using Konso or Soul Burial, as you have seen.

“And the second is to extinguish Hollows. My current mission is this.”

Ichigo had just finished wiping his mustache off onto the floor before it stuck, moving his head around, but at this he paused. “Wait a minute. If you came here on your mission, does that mean the thing called Hollow is around here?”

“That would be the case,” said the Shinigami, nonplussed.

“A… are you stupid?!” Ichigo exploded indignantly. “Why are you loitering in a place like this? Hurry up and go get it!”

“Well… you see…” The Shinigami looked away, her expression tight and uneasy. “I do not know why, but I cannot feel its presence anymore…”

“Wh… what the heck do you mean…” Ichigo began. And then he froze, eyes widening, as he heard it. A kind of howling roar.

Wh… what was that… just now…? he thought, shaken.

“It is as if a great power is hindering my senses…” said the Shinigami to herself, finger to her lips, puzzled.

“Hey! Hey, Shinigami!” Ichigo called, angry because he was afraid and alarmed.

“What?” She turned to stare at him.

“What do you mean what?! Didn’t you hear that huge voice just now?!” he demanded.

“Huge voice?” The Shinigami paused, growing more serious. “When did…”

And then she paled, her eyes widening, as she heard the howl as well - as if from very nearby.

I heard it! She whirled around toward the sound. This is… undoubtedly the voice of a Hollow!

But it still sounds like an invisible filter is out there… Exactly what is this feeling?! No, more than that -

She turned slowly, in a kind of horrified wonder, to Ichigo, who was still entrapped watching her seriously and expectantly.

This guy - He heard the voice before I, a Shinigami, did…?!

The moment broke and she whirled around at a crash and a scream from downstairs.

“It’s Yuzu’s voice…!” Ichigo realized, paling and looking horrified. The Shinigami made to run through the bedroom doorway. “Hey! Wait up, where are you going?! Was that voice from before a Hollow’s?!”

“Yes!” she barked, pausing in the doorway. “I will go and get rid of it! You stay here!”

“Cut the crap! The one getting attacked is my family!” Ichigo positively snarled, his eyes wide and afraid despite the fury in his face. “Release this spell! Hurry!”

“What are you saying?! Even if you come, there is nothing you can do!” the Shinigami shouted back. “The number of victims will just rise by one! Leave it to me and stay here quietly! Got it?!”

She grabbed her sword, ran out through the bedroom doorway - and was blown away, pausing, by the sheer force of spiritual presence coming from downstairs. Such spiritual force…! How could I not have noticed it until now…?

What has happened to me?!

“I… Ichi… you okay?”

Rukia looked down the hall and her eyes widened. Ichigo paused at the voice.

“Karin!” he called, as a blood-covered Karin appeared crawling with effort into his doorway.

“Good… It hasn’t come here…” she whispered with a weary smile. “It happened so suddenly… Blood started pouring out of Daddy’s back and he fell… Yuzu and I were attacked by something huge while we were still in shock… And I thought, I had to… warn you…”

Ichigo just lay there, stunned, eyes wide.

“I wonder what that is…” Karin continued. “I could see it a little… It looked like Daddy and Yuzu couldn’t see it… Ichi… Before it sees you… Hurry… Get away…”

Ichigo’s teeth gritted silently as Karin fell unconscious.

The Shinigami leaned down and felt her. “... Do not worry. She is just unconscious. Her soul is still…” The Shinigami looked around and her eyes widened. 

Ichigo had half stood, struggling. He was trying to break the kido spell.

“... Stop it! What are you doing?!” she barked, horrified. “Stop it! You cannot release that incantation with a human’s power! If you force it, your soul will…”

But the viewer never finds out exactly what would have happened to Ichigo’s soul if he’d failed. Because the Shinigami broke off, stunned. Ichigo’s face twisted into a snarl, his eyes crazed by love and protective fear and anger, he screamed and screamed - and with a snap of power, he was free.

Not even hesitating, he grabbed a baseball bat from beside his bedroom door and ran past the stunned Shinigami, down the stairs and out of sight before she could break out of her shock.

How -...? she thought. To release demon form with human power…? I never heard of such a ridiculous thing…!

“Wait!” she called belatedly, but he was gone.

She stared after him.

What exactly is he -...?

-

Ichigo sprinted down the staircase and appeared in the family room. A massive hole had been made through a far wall to the outside night beyond, presumably by the Hollow.

Yuzu! Dad! were his only thoughts. Two words - his whole new focus.

The kitchen was ruined and broken, the table smashed in half. Blood was smeared everywhere, splattered on the walls. Dad lay, his back an open gushing wound, unmoving.

Ichigo gritted his teeth, but realized he couldn’t find Yuzu. He looked around reflexively, through the hole to the outside - and he paused, his eyes widening.

Because for the first time, he saw the Hollow.

It was a great, hulking monster. It was white and grey, humanoid but with a great spiky spine, covered in black markings. Its face was a white and black mask face with leering skull teeth and dark, gaping holes for eyes, a tiny light of sentience in each eye.

His gaze met the gaze of the Hollow, and Ichigo froze as it turned slowly to look at him.

Th… This is… a “Hollow”…! he realized in primal, instinctive, frozen human fear. She said “evil spirit” so I thought it’d be in the form of a human… This is a monster…! 

Ichigo realized he was trembling, and he gritted his teeth, glaring through his fear, clutching at himself to try to stop the shaking. For Ichigo, a monster was somehow more frightening.

Damn…! Why am I shaking? I’m not scared! I’m not scared of something like that! I’ve seen countless ghosts! Even that’s just a ghost!

Then his eyes widened, horror taking over his face. Because he’d just seen Yuzu’s doll-like form, in the grasp of one massive, humanoid Hollow hand. She looked near unconscious… defeated.

“Yuzu!” Ichigo screamed.

She looked over and saw him, blood on her face and tears filling her eyes. “... Ichigo…!” she whispered.

And just like that, Ichigo’s fear was gone. He had found for the first time an alternative to fear - irrational, protective, horrific fury.

Screaming, he raised the baseball bat like a weapon and sprinted instinctively toward the Hollow to attack it.

The Hollow made to lash out at Ichigo, who just managed to raise the bat in alarm in time. Ichigo was shoved back by the bat, skidding on his butt, sitting up with effort in the aftermath of the attack and realizing in dread that the bat was broken. He looked up, and the Hollow was right above with an arm raised to attack him. Ichigo had just enough time to realize he was about to be eaten -

Before the Shinigami girl appeared, slicing at the Hollow’s attacking arm calmly with her sword.

Ichigo and Rukia’s eyes met, Ichigo’s in wonder and Rukia’s in something that might be hidden concern, as the Hollow screamed and dropped Yuzu, screeching and retreating.

“Yuzu!” Ichigo screamed, and he ran forward and caught his little sister in his arms, his eyes wide and distraught. “Yuzu! You okay?! Hey!” He shook her, but she wouldn’t wake up.

“Do not lose focus, boy!” the Shinigami girl called in warning, landing in a stance with her sword in front of them. “None of your family members have had their souls eaten!”

“None…?” Ichigo asked, looking up.

“Yes, even your father lying over there!”

“Wa… wait a minute! Don’t Hollows attack people to eat their souls?!” Ichigo demanded, confused. “Then what did it attack my family for…”

The Shinigami’s back was to Ichigo as she answered.

“... Hollows wander searching for souls with high spiritual concentration… For that, arbitrary humans are sometimes attacked.”

“... What do you mean…” Ichigo asked warily.

“-I… have never seen or heard of a human,” the Shinigami admitted, “who can see Shinigami and defeat kido on their own… or, a human with such high spiritual concentration…”

She turned to him solemnly.

“... Most probably, its target… - is you!”

Ichigo stared in silent horror. 

The Hollow was beginning to recover. It readied itself for another assault, but neither character was paying attention to it anymore.

“... Wait a sec…” And Ichigo gave a horrible, strangely bitter, hysterical smile. “... He came for me…? So does that mean this is my fault…? The reason my Dad’s over there almost dead… The reason Karin and Yuzu are covered with blood… It’s all…”

Ichigo was staring blankly at the ground, his head bowed, that horrible smile still on his face. This hit him especially hard, for reasons that were not entirely clear yet.

The Shinigami turned back to him completely it what was now clearly concern. “Wait. I did not mean…” she began, the Hollow looming huge and unnoticed right up behind her.

And then the Hollow swatted her aside like a fly. She landed hard and fell unconscious.

“... Shinigami…!” said Ichigo in alarm, looking up and staring over at her, coming back to himself.

The Hollow now loomed above Ichigo - whose eyes narrowed. The Hollow roared, and Ichigo’s teeth gritted in genuine hate. There was not a trace of fear left now.

“... That’s enough already!” he growled, and prepared to act.

-

The Shinigami sat up and clutched her head, more irritated than anything by the blood and the pain. “To neglect defending my back before an enemy…” she hissed to herself. “I was careless… Such incompetence…”

Then she looked up, saw what was happening, and stopped completely. Her eyes widened and some incomprehensible horror came over her face - something beyond perhaps what her current situation warranted. She saw more there than most people would.

Ichigo was standing in a stance, strong and steady, before the Hollow. It was right across from him. His fists were clenched - and then he smirked.

“Hey… you…” he said, strangely amused, calm. “You want my soul, right…?”

Even the Hollow had paused in silence.

“Then fight me face to face!” His eyes were hard, fiery, and he pointed his thumb at himself. “No one else has anything to do with this! Try killing me and taking my soul!”

“Fool!” the Shinigami hissed, moving to sprint forward, but she knew, had to know, that this wasn’t quite the truth. She knew the human boy didn’t stand a chance against the Hollow.

But here was the thing: he knew it, too.

He was sacrificing himself.

The Hollow flew forward, mouth open to eat him. Ichigo grimaced and tensed himself in wide-eyed preparation. The Hollow was about to make impact with Ichigo’s body -

And then the Shinigami ran in between them and took Ichigo’s attack for herself, her arms spread wide in instinctive defense.

The Hollow spat her back out and retreated. She fell limply, bloody, to the ground, sword loose in her hand. Ichigo had screamed out, but it took him a second of processing to make an actual, coherent word.

“Shinigami!”

“You… idiot…” the Shinigami panted from the ground, a pool of blood forming around her. “I already told you that your power is no match for it…! Or did you think that everything would be over if you gave him your soul to eat…” She looked up at Ichigo sharply. “Either way you are an idiot…!”

Ichigo stared, wide-eyed and caught out - then he looked down in genuine shame. “I’m sorry… I just…”

“Do not worry about it… is what I would like to say…” With dignity, the Shinigami tried to force herself into an upright sitting position. “Unfortunately, I am no longer able to fight the Hollow…”

She could not sit up. She rolled over onto her back instead, her face looking towards the sky.

“Now all of us can only wait…” she said hoarsely and distantly, “... until we become its food…”

Ichigo gritted his teeth and slammed a fist to the ground. It’s my fault…! he thought, the same thought he’d had before ironically. Ichigo had a guilt complex. Everyone’ll die...!

Rukia watched him sympathetically, panting.

“... Do you want to save your family…?” she asked softly.

Ichigo looked up. “Is there a way?!” he said quickly. “A way to help them?! Tell me!”

Finally, she forced herself to sit up and grab her sword, gritting her teeth against the pain and leaning back against a nearby street pole. “There is a way… No, to be exact… I should say there is only one way…”

She held up her sword seriously to him.

“You… become a Shinigami!”

Ichigo looked afraid - an interesting reaction - afraid, and surprised. “Wha… what are you saying… how can I…”

“You can! Pierce the middle of your chest with this zanpakuto, or spirit killing sword… and I will insert half of my Shinigami power! That way, you will attain the power of a Shinigami temporarily… and will be able to fight the Hollow on equal terms!”

“Is it really okay… to do something like that…?” Ichigo asked uncertainly.

“... I do not know. Of course this is a plan set up anticipating your high spiritual pressure… The percentage of success is not high… If it fails, you die…! 

“However, there is no other way!” Her eyes and voice were made of iron. “No time to deliberate.”

Ichigo hesitated. And then he heard Yuzu’s voice.

She was murmuring in her sleep, distraught. “... Ichigo… Where are you…? Ichigo…”

Ichigo looked over, his eyes tender. “... Yuzu…” he said quietly, revealing a rare moment of soft openness. “Are you having a scary dream…”

“Don’t come… It’s dangerous… Hurry and get away…” Yuzu murmured to Ichigo in her dream, tears in her eyes clenched closed. “Ichigo…”

This hit Ichigo to his core.

Damnit…! Why are all of them… worrying about me when they’re about to die…! Makes me who’s being scared for myself… look stupid!

And Ichigo clenched his fists and smirked.

“Give me the sword, Shinigami!” He reached out. “Let’s give your idea a try!”

She smiled up at him. “It is not ‘Shinigami’,” she said warmly. “It is ‘Kuchiki Rukia’.”

“... I see. I’m Kurosaki Ichigo,” said Ichigo, smiling back. “Let’s pray this doesn’t become the last greeting… for both of us.”

The Hollow had recovered, howled, and charged.

“The Hollow’s coming… if we don’t hurry…”

She lifted the sword. He hesitated for a split second - and then grasped its blade firmly, his hands near hers on the handle. She pointed the sword at his chest, and it was clear both were nervous.

“... Let’s do it,” said Ichigo first, serious.

“... Yes,” said Rukia at last.

And Ichigo’s face contracted as the Hollow charged and the zanpakuto was pierced through his chest -

And in an explosion of light and power, the Hollow paused as one of its arms fell off - sliced off at the shoulder joint by an invisible blur of speed.

The light faded and Ichigo was standing behind the Hollow, frowning seriously, in full black and white samurai robe Shinigami regalia. A long sword, as long as his body, was lifted across his back behind him. His eyes were deadly.

The arm fell beside him.

Rukia knelt, staring uncertainly, clutching at herself bleeding in a white underrobe. “How could… it was only supposed to be half… but all my powers were taken…” she said to herself softly, worried as she looked at Ichigo that far distance away.

Furthermore this feeling… that time… “I cannot feel its presence anymore”... “It sounds like an invisible filter is out there”... How could I not have noticed it until now! “It as if a great power is hindering my senses.” 

That was him!

That room was filled with the spiritual force pouring out of him… That had completely confused my senses…!

Ichigo and the Hollow were charging at each other, Ichigo’s massive sword raised.

I have never seen a human that could see Shinigami! I have never seen a human defeat kido! I have never seen the zanpakuto, which changes form in response to the Shinigami’s individual spirit power… become so large!

Ichigo raised his sword and sliced off one of the Hollow’s legs. It screamed out in pain and fell toward him howling. Ichigo raised his sword, determined.

“Realize the mistakes of messing with my family, fish-face!”

He sliced through the Hollow’s head and down through its body. In a burst of light straight through its middle, the Hollow disappeared.

Rukia stared. This guy, exactly… who is he…?

Ichigo’s sword hit the ground, his blow finished and the Hollow disappeared. His face was deadly serious. 

Kurosaki Ichigo/15 years old

Hair color/Orange

Eye color/Brown

Occupation/ High school student - Shinigami

In the next panel, we see Ichigo passed out in Shinigami form on the ground, facedown, like he fell unconscious right after finishing the blow. Rukia ran up beside him and knelt down to his level… but she paused.

Hearing a footstep from a set of geta clogs coming from right behind her.


	2. Starter

Chapter Two: Starter

The bloody corpses of Ichigo’s dead family members were shuffling toward him like zombies. He stared uneasily, still in his Shinigami uniform.

“What’s going on… Ichigo…”

“It hurts… Brother…”

“If you became a Shinigami… weren’t you going to protect us…?!”

Ichigo looked genuinely terrified, and he whirled around to Rukia, who was somehow also standing there in her Shinigami uniform.

“Sorry!” she said matter of factly. “It was too late!”

Angry and afraid, Ichigo began yelling at her, and that was when the first shouted words pierced through his sleep-induced nightmare full of impossible protective feelings and unending guilt.

“GOOD MORNING ICHIGO!”

Ichigo woke up and realized he was lying in his bed in pajamas, his father bodily pounced over him to attack him even in his sleep.

There was a scream and a crash that echoed throughout the house, and then Ichigo had his father pinned to his bedroom floor, Ichigo’s hand over his father’s face. “You bastard,” Ichigo said, angry and still shaken. “You got a lot of guts to attack your son as he sleeps…!”

“Not bad, my son!” said his father through the hand. “Nothing left to teach you!”

That was when Ichigo paused, finally seeing through his haze of changeful, temperamental anger. “You… what about your injuries?” 

“Injuries?” His father looked just as puzzled. “What are you talking about? When did I get hurt?”

“What?” said Ichigo uneasily, surprised.

-

The entire healed Kurosaki family was standing outside the house, staring at the boarded up hole in the side of it. Ichigo looked bewildered.

“But it sure is a miracle!” said Dad brightly, hammer in hand. “For a truck to crash into the house and for nobody to get injured!”

“Though it’s even more miraculous that nobody woke up!” said Yuzu equally brightly, ladle in hand. “Oh! Brother! Breakfast is ready!”

“Yeah, right.” Karin’s arms were crossed and she looked away resolutely. “Thanks to that, the criminal got away. What’s with this family…” she muttered to herself.

“Don’t worry! He’ll come back to apologize someday!” said Dad.

“No, he won’t!” Karin snapped.

“If you don’t eat soon, you’ll be late,” Yuzu reminded everyone.

Ichigo stared at the boarded up hole. What’s going on…? Everyone’s wounds have been healed… And they think the damage to the house was an accident… This is Shinigami style damage control…?

Did that person… go back to that Soul Society place…?

He was thinking of Rukia, solemn and official in her Shinigami uniform. Ichigo was still operating under the assumption that he had only taken half her power. In fact, he might have been thinking that since he was no longer a Shinigami, his Shinigami power was gone.

-

Karakura High School

10:43 AM

A curvy girl with long caramel-colored hair yawned, sitting in a hallway near a window with a book and gazing up at the ceiling absently. It was morning break. She was pretty, with a round, cheerful face and childish star barrettes tying her hair back.

“Hey, your mouth is open! You’re too young to be zoning out!” a voice said suddenly.

The girl broke from her daydream, closed her mouth, and put her book up before her face reflexively - then she saw who it was. A tall, slim girl with a messy, blunt pixie cut of black hair was smiling warmly at her, hands on her hips.

“Tatsuki-chan,” said the curvy, daydreaming girl, delighted.

Back at their desks in the classroom, they sat down next to each other.

“Ichigo sure is late!” said Tatsuki pointedly.

“Huh?” said the curvy girl.

“You were thinking about Ichigo, weren’t you?” Tatsuki grinned teasingly.

“N… No, I wasn’t!” the girl protested, looking down, but her high voice and her blush betrayed the truth.

Tatsuki paused thoughtfully. “Hey, Orihime, what about him do you like?” she asked intently, leaning forward and frowning. “He’s cold, his hair is a weird color, he’s a brat, he’s short-tempered… Frankly, a big-breasted beauty like you could do much…”

“He’s funny!” Orihime interrupted, laughing.

“Huh?” said Tatsuki, who had obviously never looked at stoical, tough, changeful and temperamental Ichigo and thought ‘funny.’

Orihime closed her eyes, smiled, and blushed. “I just think of that grimacing face of his and…” She imagined countless changes to Ichigo’s stereotypical grimace. Every single one was hilarious - from the clown face, to the afro, to the animal nose, to the terminator face. She snorted and began giggling hysterically, hands over her mouth and tears in her eyes. “The best!”

“R… really…” said Tatsuki uncertainly.

“He might not come today.” They turned around to a baby-faced prep boy with dark hair. “Ichigo, that is,” he said.

“Kojima-kun,” said Orihime in surprise.

“What do you mean? Oh yeah, you always come to school with Ichigo,” said Tatsuki.

“Yup. I went by this morning and there was a huge hole in the side of his house. Like this.” He waved his hands wide to demonstrate. “His Dad was saying a truck crashed into it during the night.”

“A truck?!” Tatsuki yelped, angry because she was nervous, not unlike Ichigo himself. “Then is he injured?! Or… dea…”

“I’m not dead,” came Ichigo’s voice, and a bookbag bumped Tatsuki gently in the back of the head from behind. “Sorry to disappoint you,” said Ichigo, who had appeared in their midst, his stoical tough guy face once more firmly in place. “But nobody was injured,” he finished with flat sarcasm.

“Kurosaki-kun!” said Orihime brightly, blushing. “G-g-g-good morning!” she stammered out, beaming as hard as she could.

“Y…? Yeah.” Ichigo actually looked nervous from the overwhelming amount of chipper emotion issuing forth from a single person. “You look happy as always, Inoue.”

Each called the other by their surname politely.

Then Ichigo went to his desk. “So you came? You were helping out with the repairs,” said Kojima brightly, curious.

“What’s 3rd period?” said Ichigo neutrally instead of answering, sitting down.

“Social studies.”

“Ochi-san, eh? Well, she won’t bother me about it much.”

“You’re… Kurosaki-kun?” said a female voice brightly from directly behind Ichigo. Ichigo turned around… and Rukia was standing there in a body in a high school uniform just like the rest of them. Everyone was looking at her. She smiled. “Nice to meet you!” she said to Ichigo.

Ichigo just stared, petrified.

“Oh. This is Kuchiki-san. She transferred in today,” said Kojima helpfully. “It’s a weird time, but her family was in a situation where they had to move suddenly.”

Ichigo pointed at Rukia, freaking out. “Y… You… Why?!”

Kojima was puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

“Kurosaki-kun, I don’t have the textbooks yet,” Rukia smiled, holding out a palm. “Let me… may I… look at yours?”

Written on her palm were the words: Say something and I kill you.

Ichigo stared in horror, open-mouthed. Rukia beamed brightly. “Okay?!”

Ichigo’s first coherent thought: Wha… What is she up to?!

-

A few minutes later, Rukia was following Ichigo to an abandoned section of the high school campus.

“Where are we going?” she asked Ichigo, who was walking in front. “Leading me to such an empty place. What dost thou intend of me, may I ask?”

Her words were hard to translate, but she was using a particularly old-fashioned way to imply sex.

“Stop that weird way of talking!” Ichigo snapped.

“Weird?” Rukia pouted. “How rude, is it not good for someone who learned in one day?”

She had apparently spent the evening and morning looking up living-world ways of talking, bringing up the endless and never-answered question of just how different Soul Society was to living world culture. On the surface, Soul Society was simply more old-fashioned… but that didn’t hold up either, because the Shinigami seemed more aware of modern fashion and technology than anyone truly old-fashioned should be. And if Rukia’s world were simply more old-fashioned, she wouldn’t have had to “study” an old-fashioned way of implying sex.

The best guess would simply be that the Soul Society was a weird blend of ancient and modern. It was a blend of modern, and feudal Japanese. So some things Rukia understood and other things were a complete blank for her. Soul Society culture was kept vague throughout the series, a useful way of being able to add in some things and delete other things from their culture on the part of the author.

Ichigo whirled around to Rukia. “Shut up! Just explain what’s going on!”

“Explain?” said Rukia, surprised and maybe alarmed.

“Yeah! Isn’t your job over?!” Ichigo demanded heatedly. “Why are you in my class? Didn’t you go back to that Soul Society place?!”

“You fool. Only Shinigami can return to Soul Society,” said Rukia, her arms crossed defensively. “Right now, I am not able to return there.”

“Huh? What do you…” said Ichigo slowly.

“Because I lost my Shinigami powers!” said Rukia firmly.

“Wha…?!” Ichigo slowly began to look alarmed. He pulled at his own physical body, school uniform, clothes. “B… but I’m no longer a Shinigami! No kimono! Where did this ‘Shinigami power’ go?!”

“Inside of you,” said Rukia, pointing. “It’s not your body but your soul that has become a Shinigami.”

Ichigo paused, disconcerted.

“Anyway! Last night I had almost all my powers taken by you!” said Rukia. “I have barely any abilities left… I’m even forced to be in this gigai, or artificial body!” She put a hand against her own chest.

“Artificial…?” Ichigo began, bewildered.

“It is an alternate body we Shinigami use in times of emergency!” said Rukia. “A weakened Shinigami enters it to wait for his powers to recover!”

“So this body is that? Human form?” Ichigo guessed.

“Yes. Weakened Shinigami are targets for Hollows. So we act like humans,” said Rukia.

So that’s why the other guys in my class could see her… Ichigo thought. He looked serious, but uneasy. “... So? What does a weakened Shinigami want with me?”

“That’s it!” Rukia held out a hand and beamed. “Until my powers return… you will take over my Shinigami duties!”

Ichigo reacted rather… viscerally in indignant fury.

“Of course, you’re the one that has Shinigami powers now,” said Rukia. “I will assist you, also of course. And you have no right to refuse, since you were…”

Ichigo put his hands up in a hex sign and gritted his teeth. “I refuse!” he said heatedly.

Rukia paused, hand in the air and mouth open. “... What?” she finally said, beginning to get both nervous and angry.

“I said I refuse!” Ichigo waved a hand and walked away. “I’m not fighting those monsters ever again.”

“W… wait…!” said Rukia disbelievingly, now definitely nervous. “You…”

“Yesterday…” Ichigo paused, his back to her. “Yesterday, I was only able to fight… because my family was in danger.” He turned around, uneasy but honest. “I ain’t fighting monsters like that for total strangers!” he said bluntly. “I’m not that nice of a person.

“Sorry if I disappointed you.”

This was an interesting way to put it. Ichigo realized he was letting her down, realized this was a shitty way to react. But he was fine with it, because he had already internalized himself as a disappointing and shitty person.

This tied into his guilt complex, directly belied his natural protective instincts, and would come up again later on in the same arc. Ichigo was not being true to himself here.

“... I see…” said Rukia solemnly, head lowered. She raised her head, deadly determined, and slipped on a fingerless glove with the Shinigami symbol on it - a Hollow skull mask surrounded by flames. “... Then I have no choice!”

Ichigo whirled around in surprise as she ran at him. “What are…”

And then she shoved the gloved hand at his high school uniform laden chest and his soul, in full Shinigami regalia, was pushed outside his body.

His physical body in school uniform fell forward and his soul body in Shinigami uniform fell backward, both in surprise.

“Wha - What’s this?! My soul has been removed?!” He stared at his soul hands, freaking out, possibly having a slight existential crisis. “Hey, body! Snap out of it!”

Ichigo’s body didn’t move. It didn’t have him inside it - didn’t have anyone inside it, in fact, though it was technically still alive.

“Hey.” Ichigo looked up in surprise to find Rukia glaring down at him seriously. She apparently still had enough power at least to see and touch him. “Follow me!” she commanded, icy and hard to read.

-

Rukia as faux human and Ichigo as Shinigami were standing beside each other in front of a children’s park somewhere in Karakura.

“... Hey,” said Ichigo at last. They had apparently been waiting for a while. Both still stared at the park ahead.

“Wait. It will be soon,” Rukia said, her arms crossed.

“What’s soon?!” Ichigo snapped, uneasy, finally looking over at her. “We’ve been waiting for twenty min…”

“Does a spirit appear near this park?” Rukia asked emotionlessly, still looking forward.

“Ah - yeah, one does.”

“What kind?”

“A 5 year old kid. He’s small.” Ichigo made a short gesture with his hand. “He usually plays here around noon.”

“Your friend?” Rukia asked next.

“What the?! I’ve just seen him three or four times. I’ve never even spoken to him… What about that…?!” he began, confused, obviously wondering why this was significant.

Rukia held out what looked like a cell phone. In the screen readout were a set of abbreviated numbers and words.

“What’s this?” said Ichigo uneasily, taking the cell phone and staring down at it.

“An order from Soul Society,” said Rukia calmly. “It means within fifteen minutes of noon, 20 meter vicinity of Yumizawa Children’s Park… a Hollow will appear. Most likely,” said Rukia casually, “that child will be attacked.”

Ichigo froze, staring down wide-eyed and blank-faced at the cell phone readout.

They looked around, Rukia for a second more cautious and assessing than she appeared, as a scream echoed out from the other side of the park. The little boy’s ghost was being chased by a massive, spider-like Hollow. He was crying, his hand reached out to them.

Ichigo saw, his face contracted with horror, and he was at the fencing of the park with his hand on his sword before a single thought could go through his head. He tensed himself, teeth gritted, preparing to fight -

“Wait!”

Ichigo turned back around to Rukia.

“You’re going to help him?” Her arms crossed, her face solemn and expressionless. “Isn’t he a stranger?”

“Wh… what are you talking about?!” Ichigo demanded, horrified. “How could I not help someone that’s right in front of me…?”

“Whether it’s in front of you or far away,” said Rukia seriously, “it doesn’t change the fact that he’s being attacked!”

Ichigo froze as Rukia’s argument hit him. Unless he committed to doing her job… this was going to happen all the time. So what did it matter if it happened in front of him… or miles away? The end result was the same. He wasn’t helping people.

The kid tripped and fell to the ground with a cry. Ichigo looked around instinctively in alarm -

“Don’t help him!” Rukia shouted. “Even if you save that kid here, nothing will matter if you don’t become a Shinigami! Saving him because he’s right in front of you?! Don’t be naive.

“A Shinigami has to treat all spirits equally! You cannot just conveniently save those you can see, those you can reach! Don’t save that kid with such half-heartedness! If you want to save him now… accept that you must save all spirits!

“To go anywhere for them… to even give your life to save them, make that kind of commitment!” she commanded, snarling. Rukia was hard and fierce - all about commitment.

Give your life, Ichigo thought, and he remembered her throwing herself in front of the attack meant for him the night before.

He seemed to come to some sort of decision.

Just as the spider Hollow had loomed over the kid and was about to eat him, Rukia’s eyes widened. Ichigo had just leaped into the park, stance at the ready.

“... Who are you…?” the spider Hollow asked Ichigo cautiously, pausing.

The Hollow screamed and flew away, skidding backward on the ground, as Ichigo slashed straight through one of its legs, slicing it off. The kid looked up, tentatively hopeful on the ground through his tears, his spiritual life saved.

“... Ichigo… you’ve accepted…?” Rukia began in hopeful surprise.

“SHUT THE HELL UP!” And the kid gave a cry of alarm as Ichigo slammed his gigantic sword into the ground right beside the kid’s head. Tact and grace were not two of Ichigo’s specialties. “I don’t accept jack! I saved him because I wanted to save him!” Ichigo shouted temperamentally, pointing defiantly at Rukia. “Is that wrong?!”

Ichigo was asking a return philosophical question: Was it true that nothing would matter if he only managed to save a few lives as a Shinigami? If he only helped the people he wanted to?

“Wha…?!” Rukia began indignantly.

“Are you any different?!” Ichigo demanded, pointing at her.

Rukia paused, her face veiled and surprised.

“You sacrificed yourself to save me last night! At that time were you thinking about complicated stuff like ‘this is my Shinigami duty’?! That’s not what sacrificing yourself is!”

And then came the second part of his argument: That no matter how many people they chose to save, all human beings only saved the people they wanted to. No one died out of duty. People died out of choice.

The Hollow was charging up behind Ichigo.

“At the very least…” And he reached his sword back and stuck it straight through the Hollow’s face, without so much as looking. “I am different!” he said in a voice of iron.

He turned around and slashed right through the Hollow, felling it to the ground.

“... I haven’t accepted any commitment…” said Ichigo, his back to Rukia. “If things get bad I might run away… Since I’m not a good enough person to be able to sacrifice myself for total strangers… But…”

He turned back around to her.

“Unfortunately,” he said sarcastically, “I’m also not trash that can live happily without paying back his debts!”

In other words: I still maintain that I’m a horrible person who doesn’t want to help anyone he doesn’t know. I still maintain that only helping the people you want to is a perfectly fine way to behave.

But I’ll help you out because you saved my ass.

Ichigo would continue Shinigami duties in this attitude for a long time - in fact, until the reason for his self hatred was confronted later on in this arc and he finally accepted that he did want to save as many people as possible.

And Rukia’s human reason for sacrificing herself for him? That wouldn’t be brought out into the open for a long time.

But for now, Ichigo marched over, frowned firmly, and stuck out a hand. “I’m going to help you!” he said. “To do this Shinigami job thing! Even if I don’t want to!”

Rukia smiled understandingly.

“Yeah,” she said simply, letting him save face and keep his secrets, and she shook his hand. “Thanks.”

-

Meanwhile back at school, alarmed students and teacher were finding Ichigo “passed out and alone” in a courtyard on campus.

And Orihime was sitting at her desk in worry, staring at the door with her math textbook accidentally turned upside down, because “Kurosaki-kun” hadn’t arrived back in class yet.


	3. Head Hittin'

Chapter Three: Head Hittin’

Orihime was walking a crosswalk alone that evening, carrying a grocery bag and singing down the city street cheerfully.

It was a childish alphabet song, naming the first characters in various favorite items. “Raa is raa from ramen… Shi is Shinigawa Sushi’s Shi… Now let’s sing…”

She heard a vrooming noise, looked around smiling - and her eyes widened, her face blanching in alarm. 

A car was speeding right toward her, about to hit her.

-

Rukia was morbidly fascinated, sitting at a park bench that Sunday afternoon and reading a graphically sexual horror manga. Ichigo walked right up behind her unnoticed… bent down… and shouted indignantly, “Hey! What are you doing?!” In a tone of supreme irritation, too.

Rukia shrieked, jumped about a foot in the air, and whirled around.

“You fool! Don’t surprise me!” she stammered out, still surprised. “I’m… studying modern speech!” she tried to fudge.

“Huh? Studying modern speech? With that book?” said Ichigo skeptically. (In reality, Rukia was probably sampling the kind of graphically sexual visual horror not available where she was from.) Ichigo was carrying a baseball bat over his shoulder. “You’re making me train while you relax and read a horror manga?! Where did you get that from, anyway?” Ichigo demanded.

“... Hm. You’re done with training?” Rukia realized cautiously, surprised, finally registering that he was back.

“Hitting the one hundred pepper-filled balls, right? Yeah, I’m done!” said Ichigo, determined and covered in a light sheen of sweat. “Breaking one hundred pepper-filled balls, what kind of training is that? Plus, where did you get this weird pitching machine…”

Baseballs had all been neatly collected back inside a miniature pitching machine that he had dragged back over behind him.

“You fool! The pepper-filled balls were only the bad ones!” said Rukia.

“Bad balls?” said Ichigo in confusion.

“Yes!” said Rukia matter of factly.

… There was an awkward, embarrassed pause.

“... You didn’t… just hit all of them?” said Rukia in disbelieving exasperation.

“Yeah! Perfectly!” said Ichigo brightly, as if this were exactly what he had been supposed to do.

“You fool! How many times did I tell you to only hit the balls that had a picture of a head on them!” Rukia yelled.

And Ichigo yelled right back. “I don’t know what it’s for! Plus, how the hell can I make out which of your pictures are heads and which aren’t!?” He held up two balls with incomprehensible marker drawings on them sarcastically.

On the pathway above the park, Orihime was once again singing the alphabet song to herself, skipping along with some groceries in hand. “Do is drunk dragon’s do! Re is Ereki Comics re! Mii is always Ereki Comics mii! Fa is alfalfa’s…”

She looked down and saw Ichigo beside the park bench in the park.

“Huh? It’s Kurosaki-kun!” she realized, cheerful, shading her eyes with her hand and leaning over to see.

Down below, Rukia was holding out a baseball and lecturing Ichigo seriously.

“Listen! A Hollow’s weakness is its head! If you slice the head, you can defeat it in one blow! This training is so that you can accurately hit the head in any situation!”

“Why do I have to do that? I’ve been beating them fine so far,” Ichigo complained.

“You fool! Have you once defeated a Hollow in one hit?!” Rukia demanded. “Sneaking up to a Hollow and defeating it in one hit is the basics of defeating them! It’s a miracle that you have remained unscathed so far, from the way you’ve been fighting!”

“Uh… attacking from behind? How can I fight so dirty like that?!” Ichigo demanded, his sense of honor in a fair fight pricked.

“You fool! Save that stuff for fights against humans!” said Rukia darkly, crossing her arms. “Your opponents are Hollows! The same rules do not apply! If you keep talking naively like that, you’ll end up dead!”

Ichigo looked uncomfortable, even uneasy. He looked away. “... But that’s…” Dangerous or not, he still had a problem with not defeating a Hollow in a fair fight.

“HELLO, KUROSAKI-KUN!” Orihime shrieked cheerfully right behind him, hands to her mouth. She had clearly been calling to him for several minutes, and he’d been so caught up he hadn’t noticed.

Ichigo jumped about a foot in the air and screamed, whirling around.

“I… Inoue, eh?” he said, embarrassed and uneasy, slowly recovering himself. “What are you doing here?” he managed to stammer out, trying to fake normality.

Orihime giggled, lifting up her grocery bag. “Just doing a little shopping. I bought onions and butter and bananas and gelatin!” she added enthusiastically, beaming.

Wha… What is she planning to make…? Ichigo thought in utter bewilderment.

“What are you doing here, Kurosaki-kun?” she added cheerfully, hands schoolgirlishly behind her back.

“Oh? Me? I am - Umm…” What should I say? Telling her I’m training would be embarrassing.

Then Orihime saw over Ichigo’s shoulder, and paused in surprise, half-smile frozen on her face. “Kuchiki-san?!” she blurted out incredulously.

“Hm. Who the hell are you?” said Rukia bluntly, arms still crossed.

“Idiot!” Ichigo hissed nervously. “That’s Inoue! She’s in our class!”

“Class?!” Rukia hissed back, and became suddenly serious. Now her reactions to this ordinary human mattered - her facade was at stake.

“Oh, Inoue-san. Honored to make your acquaintance!” Rukia beamed, curtsying, her supposed human training far too old-fashioned.

I see… In front of my classmates, she intends to play that character, Ichigo realized.

“Eh… Yes… Honored to make yours…?” said Orihime nervously, smiling and curtsying as well in total confusion.

You’re going along with it! Ichigo thought at Orihime incredulously.

Introductions over, Orihime’s eyes lowered sadly, a tiny smile still on her face. She obviously assumed that Ichigo was embarrassed and secretive because something was going on between him and Rukia. She also obviously wasn’t about to fight for him. Her secret from Ichigo crush would remain secret.

But Ichigo had paused in surprise, seeing a bandage on Orihime’s arm only half-covered by her short-sleeved shirt.

“What’s wrong… with your arm? You fall down?” he asked in curious confusion, pointing.

“Huh… Oh, this? No! I was hit!” said Orihime brightly, smiling and also pointing.

“H… hit?! By a car?!” Ichigo demanded, angry and incredulous. 

“Yeah. Last night I went out shopping to get something to drink and bam! I’ve been getting hit a lot lately.” She giggled.

“You shouldn’t be laughing! That’s a serious accident! You should be angrier!” said Ichigo, arms crossed.

“Well, it’s not like they hit me on purpose…” said Orihime, puzzled, scratching at the side of her head.

“You get hurt often, Inoue-san?” said Rukia, curious.

“More than often! It’s almost every day!” said Ichigo darkly.

“I zone out a lot - so…” said Orihime sheepishly, smiling.

“Then you shouldn’t act like it’s unavoidable like that!” Ichigo snapped, angry because he was worried. And being kind of a dick about it, too.

“Hmm…” … Oh. So she’s just an airhead… Rukia thought, retreating into neutrality once more. She seemed to have suspected spiritual activity, then become disinterested when there wasn’t any.

Then Rukia paused in surprise, seeing a huge, claw-shaped bruise on Orihime’s leg below her long skirt. Rukia’s eyes narrowed.

“... That mark on your leg. Can I see it?” she asked quietly.

“Sure. Go ahead,” said Orihime, surprised and curious. “I got this last night, too, so I think it must have been when I was hit by the car…”

She was carefully casual and cheerful about the car today, completely different from the way she had blanched in alarm last night.

Rukia kneeled down to look closely at the bruise. Her face darkened, serious.

“... Kuchiki-san… What’s with the scary face?” Orihime asked in concern, leaning down to Rukia’s level.

“Huh? Oh, no.” Rukia looked up brightly, falsely cheerful herself. “I was just thinking… it looks painful…” she made up.

“Wow! You’re right! My leg hurts much more than my arm!” said Orihime, surprised.

Ichigo cried out in alarm. “Have you gone numb from the pain?!” he demanded. “You need to go to a doctor. Doctor!”

“Huh? … Um…”

“... Why does that make you blush?”

But Rukia was off to the side, watching them absently and thinking hard, finger to her lips absently.

“Oh! It’s this late!” said Orihime in surprise, checking her watch quickly and rushing away. It was hard to tell whether or not she was faking. 

“In a rush?” Ichigo asked, confused.

“Yeah! Laugh Hour is almost on!” she called over her shoulder. She hurried up the park steps, despite the pain in her leg, toward the sidewalk again.

“You want me to walk you home!?” he called, hand to his mouth.

Orihime blushed furiously, her eyes widening. “Wha… What?! N… No, I’m fine!”

“Okay! See ya tomorrow!”

“Huh? Umm…” And now she was blushing deeper red, humiliated. “... Yeah! Tomorrow!” she finally managed.

As she walked back toward her home on the sidewalk, she murmured herself, “... Darn… He surprised me, so I refused… Stupid me… But he didn’t have to give up so easily…” she justified to herself, as with so many girls privately assuming her crush was supposed to be an insistent mind-reader.

We started to get the general idea that Orihime was a bit more than she appeared to be on the surface.

Back at the park, Ichigo frowned in concern and sighed after her. “Looking at her wears me out, because you start worrying,” he admitted. Orihime seemed to naturally bring out Ichigo’s protective instincts. “She really alright?” he added in a murmur, still staring after her.

“... That Inoue girl…” Ichigo looked around, puzzled, at Rukia, who had her back to him, dark and solemn. “Are you close?”

“Not really. Well. I guess so,” Ichigo admitted, thinking about it. “She’s been best friends with someone who’s lived in my neighborhood since the eighth grade.” He seemed to be referring to Tatsuki, saying Orihime had been best friends with Tatsuki, his neighbor, since eighth grade (the second of three junior high Japan years, everyone now being in their first high school Japan year) but interestingly Ichigo does not voluntarily bring up his other history with Tatsuki.

“Any family?” Rukia asked next.

“... One. She had a much older brother.” Ichigo looked up solemnly at the sky.

“‘Had’?”

“Yeah. He died three years ago.” 

Rukia looked around, her eyes widening in serious alarm.

“I was the one who opened the door, so I remember it well,” Ichigo began. We saw a flashback image of twelve-year-old Ichigo in a junior high uniform opening the clinic front door slowly, his expression practiced bright and interested. This would be in everyone’s first junior high year. “It was as I was about to leave for school. The clinic wasn’t open, yet I heard the bell ring. A girl was there with her brother on her back.

“It was a car accident. Blood was everywhere.”

Rukia was listening sympathetically, serious and sad.

“There was nothing we could do with our equipment,” said Ichigo, referring to the limited resources of a tiny local at-home practice. “He died before the ambulance to take him to the big hospital arrived… That’s it.

“Well,” he amended, “I only recently found out that the brown-haired girl from that day was her.

“But why are you asking this?” He turned to Rukia. “You seem interested in her.”

“Not really,” said Rukia flatly. “I’m not interested.” And she turned away, scowling and tough.

“Wha… What the hell is that?!” Ichigo demanded, irritated.

“Now! Let’s go home, too!” said Rukia firmly, not answering, and she walked away.

“Damn… Always acting so superior,” Ichigo muttered to himself, glaring after her. Then he paused in surprise. “Oh yeah, where do you always leave to? You have nowhere to live here.”

He seemed like he’d been wondering ever since she’d appeared at his school yesterday.

Rukia snickered and smirked, turning back and waving her hand wide. “What? You’re interested in my personal life?” she teased.

“I… I’m not interested in that!” Ichigo practically snarled furiously, losing his temper with his masculine pride on the line.

“Then don’t ask,” said Rukia smoothly, and she turned and walked away again. “I’m going.”

Damnit! Ichigo thought in a fit of rather dramatic rage, fists clenched as he glared death after her. Rukia seemed unfazed.

Just as it was obvious Ichigo was unusually protective of Orihime, it was also obvious already that there was a lot of unresolved sexual tension between him and Rukia. Neither feeling he would seem to want to acknowledge.

And as for Orihime’s crush? He was for the moment oblivious, more focused on his own feelings. Partly, it must be admitted, because she didn’t seem to want him to know about it.

-

“Brother! Have you seen my dress?!” Yuzu called that night, opening Ichigo’s bedroom door and looking in through it curiously.

“Hey! Don’t open without knocking!” Ichigo snapped, defensive teenager-ish. He was in pajamas, coming back up the stairs to his room with his hair damp and a towel over his shoulder, having just taken an evening shower. (All showers were taken typically in the evenings in Ichigo’s part of the world.)

“Oh. You were downstairs,” said Yuzu in surprise, looking over at him. “Oh!” She scowled. “You took a bath! I wanted to go in too!”

It was much more common for families to communally bathe together in Japan.

“Are you stupid?” said Ichigo flatly. “You’re in fifth grade now, learn to go by yourself already.”

“Brother… you’ve become colder since going to high school!” Yuzu pouted.

“No I have not!” said Ichigo flatly, looking away to go through his bedroom door. “And I don’t know about your dress.”

“What?!” she snapped, frowning. “I’m also missing a pair of pajamas!”

“I don’t know about that, either!” said Ichigo incredulously, bewildered and uncomfortable. “Why do you think I know the answers to everything?”

Meanwhile, Rukia was lying somewhere… in Yuzu’s pajamas. She’d stolen some of Yuzu’s clothes, being so tiny, small and slim. Apparently she’d looked between Karin and Yuzu and found Yuzu’s freer, flowyer, breezier and more feminine clothes to be more suitable. Karin dressed more like a tomboy, which apparently wasn’t to Rukia’s taste.

Suddenly, as she was lying there in the darkness on her back, staring up at the ceiling seriously and silently, her Hollow alarm phone went off in her pocket. She paused in surprise and checked it.

An order, she thought. … This place is… 

And then her eyes widened in alarm. She held the beeping phone, entirely still, in her hand.

-

Ichigo looked up as a loud beeping began to come from somewhere in his bedroom. He was sitting on his bed after his shower when he heard it.

“What’s this? At this hour? Yuzu and Karin are playing video games or something? Geez…” he said to himself in teenager patented exasperation.

Then the beeping turned off. 

“Oh.” His eyes widened in puzzled surprise. “It stopped.”

Then his closet door slammed open and Rukia was sitting there on a makeshift bed inside. “ICHIGO!” she barked in alarm.

Ichigo screamed. Loudly. He apparently hadn’t known she was sleeping in his closet.

“You! Since when have you been in there!” he stammered out in alarm and horror, pointing. “Hey, those are Yuzu’s pajam…” he realized.

“Forget about that! It’s an order!” she called, seeming slightly uncomfortable nonetheless.

“Order?! Meaning a Hollow will appear?! Where?!” he asked incredulously.

“The time and place are both…” She steeled herself and leapt at him, deadly calm but on edge. “Here and now!”

She pushed his body out of the way one way, his Shinigami soul out of the way the other way, with her gloved hand just as a massive Hollow claw erupted through his bed, ghostly, to try to grab at the place he had been. It came up with empty air, but only thanks to Rukia’s quick reflexes.

“Wha…” Ichigo forced out. He and Rukia stared in alarm, still in the air, as a massive humanoid Hollow followed its claw in through Ichigo’s bedroom wall. It had a head of black hair and a multi-colored, muscular, almost lizard-like body.

It loomed above him, half through his wall, and howled at him.

“Go for the head!” Rukia barked. 

“I know!” said Ichigo seriously. He slashed across the Hollow’s mask with his sword, but Rukia’s eyes narrowed in deadly serious alarm. Not deep enough! she realized.

The Hollow howled and screamed, rearing its head upward, as a piece of its mask fell off… And Ichigo froze, his eyes widening at what he saw underneath.

The Hollow zoomed back through his wall and disappeared.

“... He got away…!” Rukia realized, all business and somehow nervous for what she felt was about to unfold. “We’re going after him!” she barked, and charged forward.

But Ichigo had stopped. “... Wait!” he finally decided. He looked around, solemn, at Rukia who had paused. His eyes were disturbed. “... What’s going on…? … That was… Inoue’s big brother…!”

Rukia paused, her expression veiled - and she looked down, her Shinigami face firmly in place. “I told you that sneaking up from behind and killing it one hit was the basics against a Hollow, right…? That’s to protect against being damaged… But there’s also one more important reason.

“To kill them in one hit… and avoid seeing the Hollow’s identity!”

Ichigo looked horrified.

Rukia looked over at him, her face uneasy, and admitted seriously, “Because all Hollows… are the souls of former humans!”

-

At Orihime’s apartment that night, she was sitting at her kneeling table, chatting and having tea and snacks with an equally cheerful Tatsuki, who might have been over for a sleepover.

Behind them was Orihime’s old childhood teddy bear on a shelf. 

In one single invisible to them movement, the teddy bear ripped in half.


End file.
